


start of something new

by accio_nora



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Clexa Week 2017, ClexaWeek2017, F/F, y'all this is really gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-01
Updated: 2017-03-01
Packaged: 2018-09-27 18:54:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10039877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/accio_nora/pseuds/accio_nora
Summary: the one where clarke and lexa are the captains of rivaling soccer teams, and things take a turn. featuring lame high school musical references.





	

“What team?”

Clarke loves her teammates, she really does, but do they have to, every time –

“WILDCATS!”

She makes a point of rolling her eyes at them, but even she can’t help a grin. Octavia clasps a hand around her shoulders. Silly High School Musical references and all, Clarke doesn’t think she’d trade them for the world. You could even say they were, er, all in this together.

Clarke mentally kicks herself for that one.

Really, though, they can’t lose this. Clarke feels it in the butterflies in her stomach before the game even starts and in the goosebumps down her spine as they enter the field and the stadium roars. She’s used to playing in front of a full stadium (it’s high school sized, anyway) and she’s used to the pressure of it, but this is different – this is Grounder High they’re playing against. Clarke doesn’t think she’s ever been this nervous about a game before, and it has everything to do with the fact that the Grounders positively kicked their asses during last year’s championships. Except, of course, if anyone were to ever ask Clarke or any of the other Arkers about it, they’d insist that they lost _admirably_ , and _they were having a bad day, okay, Carol, shut the fuck up already, will you?_

Honestly, if Clarke ever hears another Grounder brag about it when they cross paths – which is pretty often because who the fuck builds two schools so close to that one bar that doesn’t check IDs? – she thinks she may just scream. Which is why they absolutely can’t, under any circumstances, lose the game.

The coach (Indra, scary) blows her whistle and Clarke snaps out of her thoughts. Suddenly, the ball finds its way to the field and people are cheering and damn, did Lexa’s ass always look this good in soccer shorts because –

“I swear to fucking _God_ , Griffin,” Clarke refocuses. “If we lose this game because you were too busy ogling Commander Bitchface over there –“ Octavia leaves her threat unfinished, but Clarke knows better than to cross the girl when it comes to soccer. “Get’cha head in the game, cap.”

And, before she can answer with a matching reference, Octavia is already gone, catching up to whatever Grounder is currently in possession of the ball - Anya? Anna? Clarke doesn’t really know.

Around her, people are chanting and cheering and the blue banners they’re waving around bring a certain dizziness to Clarke. Or maybe that’s just the nerves. She spots Raven in the crowd, jumping up and down despite her brace, attached to a Bellamy whose face is covered in blue paint, fist waving in the air. The sight of it manages to bring a smile to her face, however anxious. She gulps. They’re not losing, not tonight, Lexa’s perfect ass be damned.

___________________

Halftime finds Clarke gathering her team together for a huddle, the score resting at 2-1 for the Grounders, which, admittedly, isn’t ideal, but Clarke is far from hopeless. Her knees are a bit scraped and the lump in her throat is still very much there, but Clarke cracks a grin as lays out the strategy once again. They all know what to do, really, but it’s all more of a way to reassure herself rather than the girls.

On the other side of the field, Lexa seems to be doing the same with her team, although their huddles seem to consist more of barked orders and steadfast nods rather than offhand “Now or Never” lyrics, curtesy of Octavia. Clarke manages to catch Lexa’s glance, but Indra’s sharp whistle draws her back and, with a grinned ‘aye, aye’ from her teammates, Clarke’s back in the game, adrenaline washing over her.

She’s not really sure how it all happens. One moment Lexa’s aiming for another goal and Octavia’s waving her hands around frantically, and the next, Clarke launches for the ball and – well, this isn’t _quite_ how she imagined having Lexa underneath her would be like.

Green eyes look up at her, curious and challenging, even, and maybe Clarke’s imagining it, but she could swear she sees Lexa’s eyes dart to her lips. She curses herself. This is not the moment to be a gay mess over the actual goddess sprawled –

“Are you _trying_ to get a red card?”

Clarke suddenly becomes aware of the way she’s quite literally on top of Lexa, of everyone around them, of the clock ticking away, she may even register Octavia’s laugh a couple of feet away, but mostly, she’s suddenly aware of that fucking _smirk_. Lexa fucking Woods, soccer player extraordinaire, captain of the team Clarke’s currently playing against, smirks at her. And, well, she hopes she’s not blushing as furiously as she thinks she is when she manages to scramble off the girl, even if Octavia’s sneer suggests otherwise.

“I mean,” Octavia starts, and Clarke already feels like burying her face in her hands. “I always knew she’d be a bottom.”

If there’s ever been someone to resist Clarke’s death stare, it’s Octavia Blake.

___________________

When the game (finally) comes to an end, Clarke’s relief at getting far, far away from Lexa, and preferably everyone ever, outdoes the disappointment of losing for the second year in a row, which is why she can’t really bring herself to be too upset when the screen flashes 3-2 and the Grounder half of the stadium erupts into cheers. Once the crowd clears, Raven and Bellamy join them on their way to the lockers and Clarke braces herself.

“So how was second base with Lexa Woods?”

She slams her locker shut and makes a point of ignoring Raven, turning to Octavia instead.

“I’m thinking,” she starts, “We win the next game by a two point margin and we’ll make it to the quarters.”

She hears Bellamy sneer. “Oh, and you’ll get to see Lexa again? Who knows, you might even kiss her this time.” He looks at her over the rims of his glasses. “Not that you were far from it –“

“Please, Griffin? Nah, she couldn’t even _move_ ,” Raven interjects and God, Clarke really needs new friends. “Indra literally had to blow her whistle three fucking times before they even budged.”

Octavia launches herself in Raven’s arms theatrically, disregarding the girl’s brace entirely, and the pair stumble into the lockers laughing. “Forbidden love. It’s kind of like…” She throws an arm around her brother. “Romeo and Juliet. Or, better yet, Troy and Gabriella.”

Somehow, thoughts of Lexa signing karaoke with her make their way to Clarke’s head and there she goes, blushing again. If she could kick those insufferable smirks off her friends’ faces, she would.

As if on cue, she spots Lexa outside – or, rather, the back of Lexa’s head, and she decides not to linger too much on the fact that she can tell Lexa apart by the back of her head only. She brushes past Bellamy, who raises an eyebrow at her, and heads for the soccer captain, standing outside sans the rest of the Grounders, probably by sheer force of Clarke’s luck.

She awkwardly pats her shoulder to get her to turn around, and Lexa does, the surprise in her eyes quickly replaced by amusement as she looks Clarke up and down.

“Yes?”

Clarke realizes she hasn’t really thought of something to say. But then again, she doesn’t think she’d be any less of a mess in front of Lexa, anyway.

“Relax, I’m not going to fall on top of you again.” Clarke winces. That was more than painfully awkward.

But Lexa lets out a laugh. “Right. Um, good game,” she grins, “Even if we kicked your ass.”

“Hey, hey,” Clarke is too caught up in the sight of the girl’s smile to think twice before the words come out of her mouth. “I was distracted.”

“Were you, now?”

Admittedly, the lazy smirk that tugs at Lexa’s lips makes Clarke’s knees go weak, but no. If Lexa wants to play, she’ll play. She lets out a hum.

“Well,” Lexa adds, eventually, “That, or you just suck.”

“Watch it.” Clarke warns, and Lexa’s eyes drag down her body.

“Or what?”

There it is again, that air of superiority, the confidence Lexa exudes that she’s got Clarke wrapped around her finger. And yeah, she sort of does, but Clarke’s not about to let her win this.

She takes a step closer. And another. By now, Lexa’s practically pressed against the wall behind them, and Clarke hums. She can feel Lexa’s breath hitch – is that captain Woods losing her cool?

“I have _some_ ideas.”

Lexa gapes a little, and Clarke finds herself smiling. She can’t tear her eyes away from the girl’s lips and, to be perfectly honest, she doesn’t think she wants to. They’re impossibly close now, Lexa pressed against her and, ultimately, that’s all it takes before, one beat, and Lexa’s lips are on hers. Two, and Clarke’s hands find their way to brown hair, pulling softly. Three, and Lexa licks into her mouth and holy _shit_.

The kiss is desperate, intoxicating even, and, as the girl’s teeth nip at Clarke’s lower lip, her body booms _Lexa, Lexa, Lexa_. They part only for Clarke to move to Lexa’s collar bone, smirking into her neck at the soft moan that escapes the soccer player’s lips.

Her hands move under Lexa’s shirt – #14, not that Clarke has memorized the number – and her leg shifts between Lexa’s and the girl is left all whimpers and moans under Clarke’s touch. When Lexa grinds against her thigh, Clarke thinks she may just go crazy listening to Lexa moan her name.

She only registers the voice behind her when Lexa suddenly jumps, her lips leaving Clarke’s.

“The bus is leaving.” Anya (Anna? – no, it’s definitely Anya) smirks, eyeing them knowingly, and Clarke thinks this might be a good time to remove her hands from under Lexa’s shirt.

Anya does, in fact, leave after a sharp nod from Lexa, leaving them to try and make it look like they haven’t been making out against the wall for the past few minutes (?) (it feels like hours to Clarke).

“I should, um,” Lexa starts, flushed, hair entirely out of place and a hickey on her neck that, in hindsight, may not have been such a good idea, but Clarke isn’t about to apologize. “Thanks.”

Is she really–? Clarke has to smile. Lexa Woods is _thanking_ her.

Lexa turns around to leave, but Clarke catches her hand and it honestly takes all of her self-control not to pull the girl into another kiss.

“Give me your phone.”

She almost laughs at how fast Lexa scrambles through her pockets.

Clarke manages to unlock the phone (of fucking course Lexa’s wallpaper is of a soccer ball) and hovers over the contact name before quickly typing and handing the phone back to Lexa. With a peck on the cheek, Clarke swings her backpack over the shoulder and turns around, before Lexa can check her contacts.

___________________

No more than a few minutes later, Clarke finds herself grinning at her phone.

 

**[15:53]**

“Captain Hotstuff”, really? 

**[15:53]**

You think highly of yourself. 

**[15:54]**

_You do too, by the looks of it._

She finds Octavia’s name and types a message.

**[15:54]**

_I think I may have broken the status quo._

**Author's Note:**

> whew.  
> i sure hope you all caught onto those high school musical references.
> 
> also, yeah, bellamy wears glasses in this fic bc what even is modernAU!bellamy without bob's glasses, right? also, lexa's number is #14 bc they kissed in episode 14. subtle, i know.
> 
>  
> 
> [find me on tumblr if you want](http://www.clarkesgriffn.tumblr.com)


End file.
